Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Sofia
I was surprised by how much more human I felt by the evening of that first day.
The pain meds and whatever tea Dakvaar had made me were doing their job, and that made me feel more in control.
I actually took a shower—thank God, because I was beginning to smell, I don’t know how he stood it—but he hovered nearby the whole time.
The fact that he was trying to look like he wasn’t hovering out in the hallway in case I suddenly collapsed was half-infuriating, half-adorable.
This morning I’d told him he was a friend, and he was; he’d saved my ass and treated my daughter as if she was a miracle. But deep down, I could acknowledge the truth: I wouldn’t mind him being more than a friend.
Dakvaar the Wall was my protector, and the longer I stayed with him, the more tempting it was to allow him to protect us.
The snow had stopped by the morning of the second day, and I was feeling much better.
I ate most of the hearty breakfast he put in front of me, glad I could mostly chew again, although my face still felt like an overripe peach.
I had more energy, too, and when Rosa demanded to go outside and play in the snow, I did my best to join in.
Although I confess I spent most of that hour sitting on the porch beside the covered hot tub, watching my daughter laugh uproariously as Dakvaar pretended to chase her around the large yard.
I inhaled as deeply as my bruised ribs would allow, and reflected that this home, this yard, this town would be an idyllic place to grow up in.
And that made me sad again, to realize I would have to take Rosa and run soon.
Just focus on getting better.
The morning of the third day, Dakvaar emerged from his room dressed in the clothing I saw him in each morning when he came to the diner, rather than the gray sweatpants and Henleys he’d been wearing the last few days around the house.
He marched to the couch where I was reading, dropped to one knee, and gathered my hands in his.
“I am going to practice, dkaar,” he announced solemnly. “You don’t owe me anything, much less a promise, but I’ll beg if I have to.”
I blinked, surprised by the seriousness in his green eyes. “I owe you too much.” I squeezed his hands. “What do you need?”
“Please be here when I come home? I won’t be able to concentrate, being so far from you while you’re in danger, so I’m going to leave right after the scrimmage. Please be patient and wait for me?”
I was still weak, still hurting. I told myself that was why it was easy enough to grin my new lop-sided smile and promise him, “We’ll be here, Dakvaar.”
When he sighed in relief, I realized how easily I could read him now. His expression rarely showed what he was thinking, but his eyes did. They weren’t as green today, but he was still worried.
His handsome face—
Wait, handsome?
Well, duh. The guy wasn’t handsome the same way Anthony was, but I’d learned Anthony’s attractiveness hid cruelty. Dakvaar was an orc, not the sort of male I’d ever been attracted to, but his stoicism hid more kindness and gentleness than I’d thought one male capable of possessing.
Oh.
I was attracted to Dakvaar, wasn’t I? Not just in a you saved my ass and I owe you way, although that was still true. In a genuine I hadn’t realized how hot you were kinda way.
I was frowning thoughtfully as he stroked one fingertip over my now-unwrapped wrist, and stood. “I’ve already spoken with Maggie and told her you’re taking a few weeks off and will return once we’ve worked out this mess.”
We.
I found out later that day—in between games and movies with my daughter, because when was the last time we got to spend a lazy day together?—that Dakvaar was serious about solving my problems.
The notice that my rent had been paid early popped up on my phone, and the payment was attached to his name. During the day, the mailman delivered four large packages addressed to Rosa Lopez, and she declared it was because her birthday was in only three months, and she deserved it all.
My smile was a little weak as I helped her open them.
The first box was the smallest, and Rosa tore into it with a squeal, sending wrapping paper flying like confetti.
Inside was a set of hair ties—dozens of them, in every color of the rainbow, some with tiny sparkles, others shaped like animals.
She gasped, clutching them to her chest like they were made of gold.
“Mama, look! A unicorn one! And a cat! And a—oh! A dragon!” She immediately yanked her pigtails loose—I’d done them this morning, since Dakvaar’s attempts yesterday had been heartwarmingly awful—and fumbled with the unicorn tie, her tongue sticking out in concentration.
“Can you do my hair like this every day now?”
I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling as I helped her.
“Of course, mija.” But my mind raced. How had he known?
The next box was bigger, and when Rosa ripped it open, she let out a shriek that made me jump.
Inside was a plush dragon, its scales a deep emerald green, its wings spread wide.
It was easily twice her size, soft and detailed, with golden embroidered claws and a red felt tongue lolling out of its mouth.
“It’s Bebkar!” she shrieked, hugging it so tight I thought she might burst. “Dak’s storm dragon! He’s gonna protect me!” She immediately dragged it to the couch, arranging it beside her like a guardian.
My throat tightened. “Veth’kar,” I softly corrected, remembering the story he’d told us, and how Rosa had demanded another story from him each evening since.
The third box was the biggest, and when Rosa pulled off the lid, her eyes went wide.
“Books!” She dove in like it was a treasure chest, pulling out volume after volume—picture books with bright illustrations, early readers with big, bold letters, even a few chapter books with dragons and princesses on the covers.
She flipped through them, her small fingers tracing the pages like they were sacred.
“Mama, look! This one has a girl who fights monsters! And this one—oh! It’s about a kid who lives in a treehouse!”
I sank onto the couch beside her, my hands shaking as I picked up one of the books.
He’d bought her books. Not just any books—age-appropriate ones, and fancy ones besides.
The kind I’d always wanted to get her but could never justify spending money on when we needed groceries, when the rent was due, when—
“Mama, can we read this one first?” Rosa thrust a book into my lap, her dark eyes shining. “Please?”
I nodded, my voice thick. “Yeah, baby. Let’s read.”
She curled against me, the dragon plush tucked under her arm, and I started reading, my fingers tracing the words even as my mind spun. How had he known? How had he known exactly what she’d love?
The last box was for me.
I almost didn’t open it. My hands hovered over the neat, unmarked packaging, my stomach twisting. But Rosa was already tugging at the flaps, her excitement infectious.
“What’s in this one, Mama?”
Inside were clothes.
My clothes; new clothes for me, an indulgence I hadn’t experienced in years.
Leggings in my exact size, soft cotton shirts in colors I actually wore, even a sweatshirt that looked suspiciously like the one I’d left behind in our rushed escape.
Underneath were practical things—bras, underwear, socks—all in the right sizes, the right styles.
There was a simple bathing suit in dark blue, and a matching one that would fit Rosa, and I remembered the hot tub out back.
My fingers trembled as I pulled out a bottle of shampoo—my shampoo, the coconut-scented kind I’d been using for years.
I remembered what he’d said about orc senses, and wondered if he’d smelled it on me or something. And wondered what else he could smell.
“Mama, you got new pajamas!” Rosa held up a pair of flannel pants, her grin wide. “They have little moons on them!”
I swallowed hard, my chest aching. He’d noticed what I wore, what I used, what I—
“He even got you shoes!” Rosa pulled out a pair of snow boots, since I’d been wearing my waitressing shoes that day he’d rescued us.
I pressed a hand to my mouth, my breath coming too fast. How? How had he known all of this? How had he—
“Mama?” Rosa’s small voice cracked, her dark eyes worried. “Are you okay?”
I forced a smile, hurriedly wiping at my eyes. “Oh, yes, honey. I’m just—surprised.”
She beamed. “Dak’s the best, right?”
Yes. He was.
And that was the problem.
I helped her put away her new things, my hands moving on autopilot as my mind raced.
He’d done too much, more than I could ever repay.
The rent, the clothes, the books. Each evening he gently updated me on his friend’s search for Anthony; when it became clear my ex-husband had left Bramblewood, apparently their efforts had turned to forming a network of alerts in case he returned.
It had been days since my daughter had zoned out in front of videos as I worked too hard, and it was all because of him.
Guilt coiled in my stomach.
I couldn’t give him anything in return. Not really. Not the way he deserved.
I was a waitress with a sprained wrist and a bruised face, a woman running from her past. He was…amazing. A professional athlete, a male who could have anything, anyone he wanted.
And yet he’d chosen to spend his money on us.
I sank onto the couch, watching Rosa chatter to her new dragon, her voice bright and happy in a way I hadn’t heard in…how long?
Dakvaar had given her that.
And me?
He’d given me the first real breath I’d taken in years.
I just didn’t know how to thank him for it.
The front door burst open with a force that made me jump, my heart leaping into my throat. Rosa, who had been sprawled on the floor pretending to read to her dragon, shrieked in delight and scrambled to her feet.
“Dak!”